After We Fought
by harrison-girl
Summary: The thoughts of some of our favorite characters and couples after The Final Battle. Occaissional OOCness.


Chapter 1: Ron & Hermione

"It's over," Ron said, entering the room he shared with Harry at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, though the person he was with now was not Harry, but a girl whose first initial was the same.

"That's it; nothing else to accomplish, besides school of course," Hermione replied. Ron grinned at her affectionately; after all that they had been through, Hermione was still thinking about school.

They went through the casual affair (Done many times, both with Harry present and alone in the past year.) of undressing. At first, Ron (Being some sort of gentleman) was totally against Hermione living in the same tent as he and Harry, dressing and undressing with them present. But time makes things familiar, though no one had bedded in the process, no matter how much a certain pair wanted to. Against their minds and 'better judgment', sexual tension still arose, though the two of them were reminiscent of Ron's parents now.

Ron pulled off his maroon jumper and red t-shirt in one motion unknowing chills down Hermione's back. He continued on to pull off his jeans and brown lugs to put on some worn flannel pajamas trousers luridly striped in red and blue.

"Socks," Hermione reminded him. He grinned again; he always forgot about his socks. He peeled off the huge white from his feet and threw them to the side of the room. His nose wrinkled at the smell they left.

Hermione, having thrown her red polka-dotted blouse and khaki slacks in the hamper, yanked her plaid pajama pants on and pulled a black tank top over her head. She waved her wand at the two beds and they came together. i That has far symbolism for tonight /i she thought as she placed her wand on the dresser.

Flopping on the bed with her arms over her head, she reminisced over the good and bad, particularly focusing on the battle she had just fought. It was bloody and dreadful, to say the least. She had succeeded in killing a man (Rodolphus Lestrange) and didn't enjoy it. Her soul felt ripped in spite of her better judgment (He i was /i evil, the world was better off without him).

Her thoughts were interrupted as Ron rolled onto the bed. He was simply too big and broad now to enter anything quietly, but she loved him for it. His hugeness was endearing.

"Hey, I know you bad about Lestrange, but it's for the better," he said, staring her in face after she turned to look at him.

Ron grinned as she pondered over what he said, blue eyes sparkling.

"Yes, but I i killed /i him! I'm just not built, made, created, whatever you want to call it, for killing!" she protested. "I'm not really thinking about how Bellatrix (Even though she's dead) or anybody's feeling about his death, but it, it, it… i bruises /i to know that I've used an Unforgivable on someone."

"But you're brave enough to handle it," Ron said stubbornly. He reached out and cupped her cheek, grinning.

"No, I'm not!" she snapped, making her fighting face which Ron loved so dearly.

"'Hermione Granger is to be put in Gryffindor House!'" he quoted from their transcripts back to school.

"Enough, effing-don't start singing!" she said grumpily, catching Ron's eyes and knowing that he was dying to get her back into a good mood.

"Fine, I won't," he said crossly. They turned to face the walls in anger for a moment, before turning back and snogging the hell out of each other.

Hermione felt her body both tense and relax at his touch. No matter how close they were, no matter how long they would be together, the feeling she got when he touched always be the same. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he grabbed her waist.

"Excuse me!" Ron suddenly, removing his face from hers. He gave a yawn reminiscent to a lion's. "Sorry, I'm just really tired."

"It's been a long day, I understand." Hermione yawned, knowing for fact that yawns were contagious.

"You always understand." Ron turned onto his stomach, his preferred sleeping position, and took her hand. Hermione snuggled next to him, pressing her chin to his freckled shoulder and sighed.

It had been a long day, and they were exhausted. The last fight for them, at least for now, was done, and Voldemort was vanquished. Worn, they slept.

Chapter 2: Harry & Ginny

Harry walked up the stairs of his house patiently to the room formerly shared by Ginny and Hermione during the holidays holding Ginny around the waist so that she didn't bounce away from him.

"He's gone, he's gone, he's gone!" Ginny sang. She was oddly bubbly. Upon entering the room, she grabbed Harry and waltzed around the room, singing her little chant.

"Yeah, but Hagrid's dead," Harry said solemnly, stopping the waltz. "And Grawp."

"Yeah…but he's gone! You killed him, Harry! You're an official hero now!" Ginny planted a kiss in his mouth and continued her dancing on her own.

Harry grinned; it was nice to be with her, to be able to talk to her. He stripped off his black button-down shirt and replaced it with a blue t-shirt. He had just kicked off his shoes and socks when Ginny waltzed back over to him and pulled him up off the bed with incredible strength for a girl, nay, woman, of her size.

They waltzed around the room, spinning and dipping and lifting to the silent music. Though he was smiling on the outside, Harry was feeling numb. After his parents, after Sirius, after i Dumbledore /i he thought that Hagrid would always be there for him. His first friend, his protector, his mentor almost, was gone. He would never see Harry graduate from Hogwarts, never teach another chaotic class, never give another piece of advice.

"Oh Harry! Please, I'm going to miss him too, but look at the victory we've got!" Ginny shouted. She clamped his face between her hands and stared up at him with all of her soul.

"Okay, okay, this is why I love you, right? You always make me look on the bright side," he said. He scooped Ginny up in his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him.

Harry backed up to the bed and sat down, having a fine time re-exploring Ginny's body. The flowery scent of her hair, the twin dimples on either side of her spine, not to mention the cutest little bum he'd ever felt.

They were laced together by the tongue for nearly a full minute before Harry got up and locked the door of the room then shoved his jeans off.

"Any particular reason why you did that?"

"Privacy, pumpkin, privacy." Ginny shrugged and on her pajamas, plaid shorts and a white camisole. She tied her hair in a messy bun on the top of her head.

"I thought we were going somewhere!" Harry cried out.

"I'm far too tired for any shagging now," said Ginny, yawning delicately. She hopped into the bed and covered herself.

"But….what about….argh! You confuse me!" he shouted, dumbfounded. He narrowed his eyes and took a running jump into the bed, attacking Ginny and covering her mouth with his. She wriggled around, making small, funny noises and finally shoved him off.

"YOU. ARE. AN ANIMAL!" she said, voice low and guttural.

"Don't you love it?" he replied.

"Killing Death Eaters takes a lot out of you, let's go to bed," Ginny said. She snuggled deep under the covers and patted the spot next to her. "Come on, you know that you want to," she said endearingly.

But Harry didn't want to sleep, childish as it sounded. He would dream of all those painful memories and of things never done.

"Come on, Harry," Ginny pleaded. Harry consented, putting his glasses on the bedside table and crawling under the covers. Ginny grinned and lay down, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head on his chest.

Harry stayed up, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all that had happened. Hagrid, Dedalus Diggle, Hestia Jones, and Firenze had all died in the fight. Harry himself had killed Voldemort, though he felt no regret about that. Draco Malfoy, he knew, was downstairs being interrogated by Mad-Eye Moody. Ron and Hermione were safe and besotted with each other. Remus and Tonks were alright. The rest of his teachers, though grieving, were still whole.

i Maybe I should buy a ring tomorrow /i was Harry's last thought before he slept, somewhat content.

Chapter 3: Remus & Tonks

Remus and Tonks lay in their bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting and listening to Harry and Ginny in the room below. To anyone who did not know them, they would seem strangely unobservant of each other, though you would have had to been a very casual observer not to notice their hands.

Remus stroked Tonks' small hand over and over with his rough thumb. She was content in lacing her fingers with his.

"It's over," she said blankly.

"Yup," her lover replied, just as blank as her.

"I helped Neville kill dear Auntie Bellatrix," she said, voice filled with contempt for her aunt.

"Good. I've always liked him; he's a lot like Frank was at his age. Neville will go on to do great things," said Remus.

Tonks rubbed Remus' wiry sandy hair with her other hand. He smiled wryly as she scratched a small itch he had on his scalp.

"You did a good job. I don't understand why you didn't go on become an Auror like me," she observed.

"Well, I considered it, but teaching really intrigued me, of course, none of us really had any plans or goals. James was a trust-fund kid; he didn't need a job. Sirius was just content to stay away from his family and Peter, well, he was just confused," he said, relaxing at Tonks' touch. He turned to face her, doing a good impression of a confused Labrador.

"What!? Why are you making that face?!"

"Y'know, I don't think that long black hair and dark skin really suit you," he said, observing her with a critical eye.

"Really?" she asked, "I did this so that I would be harder to see!"

"Well, now you should change," he said.

"What do you want to see me in, since you're probably going to start the sexcapades with all of this…?"

"Who says I'm looking for a good shag? If I were, I certainly wouldn't look at you for it," he teased, knowing that Tonks knew she was good. "But how about fair skin with high cheekbones and round pink cheeks, a curly blonde bob, and a nice curvy figure?"

"You disgust me, Remus," she said, put-off good-naturedly. She screwed up her face and changed to fit Remus' description. She went to the mirror to inspect her work.

"God, what is the point of having high cheekbones if my cheeks are all chubby?" she said to herself, smashing her face between her hands.

"If it helps, you look real cute," said Remus, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Wotcher, Remus, I thought we had an adult relationship," she said dryly.

"We do, 'cause only adults can do this!" he said, jumping out of the bed, bounding across the room, and grabbing her around the waist to stick his hand down her shirt.

"Remus! You're like a little puppy! What's gotten into you?! Are you feeling alright?" she cried out, swatting his hand away with one hand and feeling his forehead with the other.

"I'm fine, I've just realized that I'm free, because my biter is dead!" he said, lifting Tonks up and hugging her with inhuman strength.

"Took Hagrid and Hestia with him," she muttered darkly, though not resisting the fervent, joyous kisses he was placing on her neck. She finally gave in, though she felt as if their roles were reversed, her being the one who usually started these things.

They fell into the bed, Tonks' newly voluptuous figure fitting well under Remus. She stayed content with fingering all of his self-given scars and such as he had fun, kissing her all over until he looked at her with puppyish eyes.

"What role do I get to play?" she said exasperatedly.

"Hey, I've had my fun and you're grumpy. Get on your nightgown and I'll make hot chocolate and I'll read to you," he said. Tonks smiled and kissed his cheek as he disappeared downstairs. She pulled her white nightgown over her head and flopped down on the bed as Remus came back upstairs. He handed her a mug, snapped his fingers to change into his brown pajamas and swung onto the bed with a book. He began to read, Tonks snuggled up next to him and listened intently as he used different voices for each character.

"You're a dork," she said affectionately.

Chapter 4: Minerva McGonagall

I was tired; an old lady such as myself shouldn't be fighting battles, especially with my slight crippling of two years past.

I dabbed my eyes again for the millionth time that night. So much of the Order was gone, Hagrid, poor Hagrid, and Firenze, and Hestia, and foolish Dedalus.

"Minerva, please, try to remember the good times," Pomona said brightly. She handed me a cup of tea and sat down next to me at the couch.

Filius walked in, looking rather choked.

"That Malfoy boy," he said, "Is done being interviewed by Alastor. He took the Veritaserum willingly. It just seems that he wants to get back to a normal life."

"Well, I don't blame him," said Poppy, "Now since he's finally gone, let's break out that elf-made wine."

Well, at that, I spat out a bunch of tea that I had been drinking. My colleagues, well, no, my i friends /i looked at me.

"I'm sorry," I said, "It's just very um-Poppy-like to break out the good elf-made wine."

"But happy things make us all very different," said Filius.

And break out the elf-made wine we did. We drank a little more than our fair share, I think, but it wasn't as if Harry needed to the alcohol. I don't think he even knew about the prestigious Black family wine cellar.

"Remember the time that Sirius Black placed dung bombs all over the entrance hall on the big OWL examination while he was still in the second year and the examiners refused to come in?" Filius wheezed.

Though we all laughed at the memory, we secretly felt sadness. All those fine witches and wizards of that generation were few and far-spread.

"Remember when the Weasley twins finally left?" I shouted raucously.

"Hear, hear!" shouted the rest of them, raising their glasses.

"Remember that Christmas where Albus insisted we place mistletoe in the Great Hall and James Potter somehow got little Lily to kiss him under it? And at the feast too!" Pomona howled, spilling some of her drink on her lap.

"And then you and Filius somehow got under it too!" Poppy squealed. Pomona and Filius blushed.

"It hic was purely coincidence!" Filius confirmed. "We're not the only ones caught under the mistletoe, Minerva. Remember you and Hagrid in, oh; it was in Harry's first year. You turned as red as a beet, giggled, and your hat fell off!"

I'm sure I blushed that deeply again.

"Well remember when James cursed Severus…." I suddenly stopped. We all bowed our heads for our estranged companion. He…disappeared, when and why, no one knew.

We continued our memories, extending to the wee hours of the morning until we fell into drunken stupors.

I don't know about the rest of them, but I dreamt of all our fallen students, though I knew that the ones that had survived would go along just fine in life.

Chapter 5: Luna Lovegood

I stayed on the prowling sidelines during the last battle. I helped Madame Pomfrey with healing the wounded and performing minor jinxes, unwittingly sending Death Eaters to their well-deserved doom.

What is it about death that makes people go crazy? There are plenty of people out there going crazy in life and having fun, not caring about death, like Daddy, Rita Skeeter, and the Weasley twins.

At Daddy's insistence, I came to Grimmauld Place after Harry's request. There I saw Neville and Ginny and Harry and Ronald. They were all on the front lines, fighting. It must be a Gryffindor thing. Hermione was fighting too, but I secretly think that she begged the Sorting Hat to put her into Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw so she could be with Ronald.

But I kept to myself most of the time. I saw Firenze die, and Hagrid and his brother Grawp (I'm not sorry to see that ugly mug go, to be perfectly honest). So did one of the prettiest witches I had ever seen, with pink cheeks and black hair, and a funny little man with a goofy violet top hat. Madame Pomfrey laughed and laughed when I put it on, but she would not let me keep it.

Old Professor Moody gave me a thumbs-up as I helped Madame Pomfrey clean Professor Flitwick's wounds. I glowed inside.

Now I somberly pace the halls of Harry's house, which is none too pleasant. I don't think much of he décor, nor does Hermione. The dead house-elves aren't much my taste either.

I walk past the kitchen, trying to live in the now, listening to Professor Moody interrogate Draco Malfoy. The poor boy seems to have gotten himself in a spot of trouble. He's probably going to lose some house points.

"She's such an odd child," I hear Mrs. Weasley says to her husband as I walk by. I grin to myself. A wrackspurt must have gotten to her. Now her son Ron, he's strange. He waits seven years before he tells his true love (Hermione, you know) that he loves her. Now that's foolish, if you ask me.

I bump into Neville as I walk away from the kitchen.

"S-s-sorry! I didn't notice, er, see you, Luna!" he stammers. He's as shell-shocked as a niggerty-flib.

"It's okay. Lost in thought?" I ask.

"Yeah, I finally avenged my parents. With some help from Tonks, you know," he says, a trace of pride in his wavering voice.

I smile. "Good job; I'm proud of you Neville."

The beaming smile on his face isn't to be believed. He looks so proud, so accomplished, that I give him a quick hug before scooting off to my room (Deemed by Harry) to sleep. After all, the boy is rather cute, if not my type completely.

Chapter 6: Neville Longbottom

I killed Bellatrix Lestrange! I killed Bellatrix Lestrange! I felt like shouting it to the heavens itself. Gran would be so proud, and so would Great Uncle Algie and Great Aunt Enid and the rest of my family.

I was sick of them underestimating me. Gran would finally have something to be proud of.

I just felt exhilarated. Tonks helped me and I was feeling on top of the world as I walked the halls of Harry's house. I didn't much like his décor, but I was positive he would change it soon, if not move into the legendary Potter Mansion, his grandparents' house, rightfully his and justifiably so. All purebloods were envious of it.

Checking my pocket watch (A coming of age gift from my mother's parents), I saw that it was time to Floo to home to see Gran and tell her of my victory. My i mimbulus mimbletonia /i also probably needed watering.

On my way to the parlor to use some Floo powder to get home, I bumped into Luna Lovegood. I was so surprised to see her that I stuttered my apology.

She thought it was perfectly alright and was so thrilled at my victory that she gave me a hug and practically Apparated to her room. I shrugged it off; she was too weird for me anyways.

I caught a snippet of my teachers drunk in the drawing room as I went to the parlor. They were laughing about Fred and George Weasley's antics at school.

I took a pinch of Floo powder and shouted for home, landing on my feet for once in the kitchen.

"Neville! You're back! I was so worried!" Gran shrieked. She hugged me tightly, reminding me of how tall I had gotten in the past year. I was nearly as tall as Ron now.

"Gran, sit down, I've got something very important to tell you," I said. She sat down at the table and I took a deep breath.

"You're not married now, are you?" she crowed suspiciously. I sputtered out my deep breath in laughter. "I take that as a no."

"Gran, I killed Bellatrix Lestrange…with some help from Nymphadora Tonks," I said slowly. Gran's eyes got all wide and she pulled out her hanky.

"Neville, dear boy, you have no idea what this means to me…to the family, and your parents," she said. She dissolved in sobs.

"G'night, Gran. I'll see you in the morn," I said, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. I left the kitchen and bounded up the stairs to my bedroom.

Trevor croaked and my many plants looked happy. I watered them all and fed Trevor. Out my window, the moon was a tiny crescent.

I was so tired that I flopped on my bed fully dressed and slept like a log.

Chapter 7: Molly & Arthur

Molly Weasley sighed. There was a lot of work to be done. True, she hadn't been out on the front lines with her sons and daughters, but she had been nerve-wracked inside, worrying enough for everybody.

She bustled around the Grimmauld Place kitchen, one she'd come to know just as well as her own at the Burrow, checking the cutlery and the plates and generally making a fuss, since Remus hadn't bothered to clean up after making cocoa. She scowled and with a wave of her wand, sent the pot and spoon to the sink, the cocoa container to the cupboard, and the debris to the dustbin. Oh, how she loved her wand.

She nearly jumped as two arms wrapped themselves under her not-so-tiny-anymore waist tenderly and a chin rested on her head.

"Hey," said her husband Arthur.

"Hey you," she replied. He kissed the top of her head and sniffed her hair.

"You smell like cocoa."

"Remus decided not to clean up after himself. Young people these days," she said, pouting fiercely.

"Youth will be youth," Arthur replied, "They never know the grim things in life, so the go on being recklessly happy." He tweaked her nose affectionately.

Arthur sighed; nearly thirty years of marriage and seven kids later, Molly still had no idea how attracted to her he still was. She would probably never get it.

She reached up with a tiny hand and touched his arm as they swayed back and forth together. Arthur watched her as she scrutinized her left hand.

"What are you looking at so sharply?" he finally asked, totally confused.

"My wedding ring," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh, that old thing," he said breezily.

"Yes, that old thing," she said, feigning crossness, "Which I love so much. Almost as much as I love as a certain old man."

"Why're you talking about Dumbledore when you've got a nice young man like me?"

"Arthur! Now I know where Fred and George get it. Gideon and Fabian weren't nearly as troublesome as them," she scolded.

"But you have to love them now that we don't have to do anything for them. They're grown into such nice young gentlemen." Molly snorted.

"I choose to ignore that snort, Mollywobbles. But I do like Angelina and Katie. They're very nice. Y'know, none of our children are marrying red-heads. I'm afraid that the Weasley red hair is getting diluted: Harry has black hair, Hermione's brunette, Angelina's Egyptian, and Katie and Fleur have blonde hair," Arthur said.

"I still don't understand why he chose Fleur," Molly mused.

"Well, she's nearly as beautiful as you, and just as bossy, for starters."

"I am not bossy!" she shrieked, slapping her husband's arm.

"Yes you are. It's endearing, Mollywobbles."

"Arthur Weasley, you are a timid man!" she shouted for her insult to him.

"Am not," he said breezily. He reached down and pinched her bum to prove his point.

"Arthur!" she scolded, tipping her head back into his chest.

"Molly!" he mimicked. She scowled again and scrutinized his face with her twinkling brown eyes. He popped a kiss on her lips and bolted to the hallways.

"See, you are still a timid man!" she accused.

"Oh, Molly! You must be tired, come on!" he jeered.

"Oh, fine! I'm coming," she said, throwing her apron to the sink and pocketing her wand. "But you're sleeping on the floor, you hear, you creepy old man!"

Arthur wrapped an arm around her waist and they walked to their bedroom together, joking and laughing about their children until they reached their room, put on their pajamas and fell asleep, though the creepy old man didn't have to sleep on the floor.


End file.
